Dear Pigeon
CW: Death, animal harm
Under the puriri tree, an old friend \
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Drifts and dreams, I hope, though I see their end.
No heart knows not the callous call of death,
For we are all a pigeon in the park--
Waiting, weary, still-eyed, with each short breath--
Waking twice a minute, only to spark
A daring escape we know we must've \
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Dreamt when we were still flying with the flock,
Working, to pretend we're something that we're not.